


you are the reason I can dance

by mithrilstarlight



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-17 05:58:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16968990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrilstarlight/pseuds/mithrilstarlight
Summary: Willas needs to get out of the city and find inspiration for his new book. Sansa's daily routine of running a small-town café could use some spice.





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> I did it y'all, I finally wrote a coffee shop AU. Only took me five years. Next two chapters will be posted weekly on Wednesday.

“Arya, get off the counter.”

“Make me.”

Sansa glared over at her little sister. Even sitting on the counter, she only barely made it to Sansa’s height. But that’s what she got for being so short. Mother used to call Arya condensed trouble. Wasn’t that the truth.

“When you sit on it, I have to clean and disinfect it all over again,” Sansa said. “Just move. I have to work.”

Arya stuck her tongue out and slid down from her perch. “Fine, but I’m breaking in here tonight and walking all over the tables. I’ll leave great big footprints for you to clean up tomorrow.”

“Sure, Arya. You do that,” Sansa mumbled with an eye-roll.

The little silver bell over the door to the café rang, heralding the arrival of a new customer. Sansa looked up, putting on her best smile, and poised her hand over the cash register. “Welcome to Half Moon Café, what can I get for you?”

“Large cappuccino, no cream,” the woman replied. She slid over some cash and walked to a table.

Sansa turned and began working on the drink. Arya followed uncomfortably close behind. “If you are going to spend so much time back here, perhaps I should get you an apron and put you to work,” Sansa said as she poured the coffee into a mug and plated it.

“Gross, I don’t want to work here.”

Sansa walked the coffee over to the customer and returned to the counter. It was a slow day today. It was always a slow day. Winterfell wasn’t exactly a bustling community, unless it was tourist season.

“I still can’t believe that _this_ is what you decided to do with your cut of Mom and Dad’s inheritance,” Arya continued.

Sansa nudged her sister out of the way to clean the espresso machine for the third time in an hour. “Just because you spent it all on a fancy education abroad doesn’t mean you’re better than me.”

“That’s not-” Arya groaned. “You know that’s not what I meant, Sansa. I know you didn’t have a choice after Mom and Robb…” Sansa gripped the handle on the machine tightly and waited for her sister to finish. “You’ve done a great job with Bran and Rickon,” Arya said.

Five years. It had been five years since some piece of trash wasn’t watching where he was going on the highway and sent Mom and Robb spinning out of control. Sansa had only just reached adulthood and suddenly she had to support three siblings. Fuck that guy. Frey, or whatever his name was.

“When was the last time you took a break, Sansa?” Arya asked. “You’re here literally every day. Don’t think I haven’t spoken to Rickon about it. Bran, too.”

Sansa closed up the machine and turned around, arms crossed. “What’s it to you?”

Arya shrugged, jumping back up onto the counter. “I just think you need something new in your life. Something that isn’t work.”

* * *

Willas crumpled a sheet of paper and threw it across the room. It landed on what used to be a trash can. Now it was just mountain of wasted paper. Three fucking _years_ and he still couldn’t get one good sentence onto a page.

The doorbell to his apartment rang. Willas looked down at his watch to see that it was well into the afternoon. “Fucking hell,” he whispered, rubbing his eyes. “Coming,” he shouted. That would be Garlan with the twins.

Willas hauled himself out of his desk chair and trudged towards the front door. His knee hurt. Everything hurt. That’s what he got for sitting in a cheap, shitty desk chair twelve hours a day. He checked himself in the little mirror by the front door. A little bit scruffy, but groomed enough to be presentable. He opened the door with a smile. “Hello there!” Jeyne and Leyla ran inside immediately, each attaching to one of his legs.

“You look exhausted,” Garlan said, stepping inside with duffels bag in tow.

Willas fingered the twins’ hair, all brown and curly just like Garlan’s. “I still haven’t written anything,” he replied.

“Still?”

Willas nodded. “I was hoping to have something by now. My publisher is furious with me. Nothing seems to work.”

Garlan set the duffel bags down on the hallway floor. “Have you considered taking a vacation to clear your head? Not to sound like Marg or anything, but you have been cooped up in here for a while. You might be stuck in a rut.”

Willas rolled his eyes. He could hear their baby sister saying those exact words in his head. “You’re not wrong,” he replied. “Fine, I’ll book a train back to Mom and Dad’s for Monday.”

The twins released his legs and ran off down the hallway. “That’s not what I meant,” Garlan said as he watched the girls go. “Highgarden isn’t a vacation. You need to go somewhere new and far away.”

Willas chuckled. “Like what? Up north?”

“Sure, why not?” Garlan shut the door and shrugged. “You don’t have anything keeping you here, do you? Take a couple of weeks and go see the mountains. Walk in the woods. You need a change of pace.”

“Fine, fine,” Willas waved his hand. “I’ll spend a couple of weeks up in Winterfell, alright?”

Winterfell was a long train ride.

Usually someone would fly from Oldtown up to White Harbor if they were going north. It was a hell of a lot cheaper. But flying was brutal on his knee. Fifteen years of physical therapy and it still bothered him enough to keep him on the ground. But trains were nice. Willas could stare out the window and admire the scenery. It was only a couple hundred miles up to Winterfell, and with the new trains the time was almost comparable despite the number of transfers and stops.

“Go up north, he said. It’ll be fun, he said,” Willas mumbled to himself as he stepped off of the train. Even in the summer it was cold up here. Cold and wet and gross.

Leaning heavily on his cane, Willas walked through the little train station and into the town square. Or, the town, it seemed, since there wasn’t much beyond this one square other than houses. Winterfell was _tiny_ compared to Oldtown. Even Highgarden was at least three times the size and it was considered small by southern standards.

A chilled breeze blew through, sending a shiver up Willas’s spine. Café first, then the bed and breakfast.

* * *

Sansa leaned over the counter, scrolling through her phone. It wasn’t good for business to have time to do nothing, but her email wouldn’t check itself.

“Give me that,” Alys said, gently taking the phone from Sansa’s hand. “I promised Wylla that while she was gone I’d make sure you went on a date.”

Sansa pouted, resting her chin on her hand as Alys scrolled through Sansa’s contacts. So many first dates. Never any second dates.

“How about him?” Alys asked, pointing with her thumb to one of the hundred names.

“No, he got married last year, remember?” Jeyne said, pushing herself between the other two as she wiped her hands down with a towel. “To Beth, that girl a couple years below us.”

Sansa wrinkled her nose. “Gross, now I feel old,” she said. To be fair, it was her own fault that she hadn’t gone on a second date in years. First dates were fun and short. Second dates were long and serious. She had time for fun and short, not long and serious. Not with this schedule.

“Hey, when is Sigorn coming back? Hasn’t he been gone for a week?” Jeyne asked.

Alys shrugged and continued scrolling. “Dunno. His last hunting trip was ten days. The record is eighteen,” she said.

“Ah yes, Alys’s dreamy mountain man,” Sansa drawled, standing up to wash some dishes.

“Shit,” Jeyne muttered as Sansa made it halfway to the kitchen. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

“Shit what?” Sansa asked, turning around.

Alys and Jeyne turned, both of their faces panicked. “Um, it’s not good,” Alys said. “Joffrey is coming back to town. He didn’t say why, but he texted and asked to meet up with you.”

Fuck. Sansa swore she’d blocked his number. Or perhaps he’d gotten a new one in the last few years. Taking a deep breath, she waved her hand. “Look, take my phone and keep searching, but get out from behind the counter. I can’t have people thinking I hire the likes of you. I’ll deal with Joffrey later.”

Jeyne snorted a laugh. “Too late, you already hired me.”

Sansa returned to her slumped position on the counter and watched her two best friends giggle in the corner. What she would give for it to be tourist season already. It would be lovely to see someone new walk through the door for once.

The bell rang and Sansa looked up to see a tall stranger walk through the door. A very attractive stranger, at that. Well, she’d wanted new. Standing up straight, she forced as much of a smile as she could bear. “Welcome to Half Moon Café. What can I get you?” she asked.

The man stared up at at the chalkboard menu for several long seconds. “Black tea,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Sansa blinked. “Really? You spent all that time looking at my extensive menu and you order the most boring item?”

She shouldn’t have said that. That was what got you bad reviews.

The man squinted at her. “I’m… sorry?”

Sansa waved her hand. “No, I’m sorry. It’s not a great day for me, I shouldn’t have snapped. One black tea,” she said. Smooth, Sansa. Very smooth. “I’ll bring it to your table.”

Her face heated as she turned away and she kicked herself for being so rude. It was so unlike her. Well, if Joffrey had been good at one thing it was making her unlike herself.

She poured boiling water into a mug and dropped in the little ball of loose leaves to steep. Perhaps she could make it up to him. A free muffin? A scone? Anything? It was one thing to snap at a regular, someone local who knew her since she’d learned to walk and had witnessed the whole Joffrey thing. It was an entirely different matter to snap at a stranger from out of town.

Once the tea had finished steeping, she dumped the ball of leaves into the sink and took a deep breath. She picked up the mug and saucer and walked over to the man, who had taken up residence by the window.

Setting the mug down, she stepped back and wiped her hands on her apron. “I really am sorry for snapping,” she said in an as apologetic voice as she could manage.

The man looked up, a faint smile assuring her that she’d not entirely ruined his day. “It’s alright,” he said.

Silence hung between them for a second until Sansa’s brain caught up to reality. “I- can I get you anything else?” she asked.

He shook his head, still staring up at her. “No, I think the tea will be enough, thank you.”

Sansa nodded slowly, exhaling. “Okay, well if you do my name is Sansa.”

“Willas,” the man said with a nod.

Willas. She could remember that. Turning on her heels, she scurried back behind the counter, chased by the not-so-silent giggles of Alys and Jeyne as they followed her into the kitchen.


	2. two

Willas slowly spun the glass of beer on the bar, staring at the dark liquid as it sloshed. It wasn’t bad, actually. Local brews were hard to get in Oldtown. Not that he would know what could or couldn’t be gotten in many places. This was the first time he’d gone out for a drink in over a year, if he remembered correctly. But one had to celebrate after the first week of writing in too long a time.

The door to the bar opened and closed suddenly, startling Willas. He looked up to see Sansa, that girl from the café, storming in. He didn’t really know her, but she looked murderous. She sat down at the other end of the bar and ordered.

Deciding that he’d risk his life, Willas slid from his stool and walked over.

“You look like you could use a drink,” he said, sitting next to her. He leaned his cane up against the bar by his knees. “And not the kind you serve in your café.”

Sansa let out a half-hearted laugh and rest her forehead on the bar. “That would be correct,” she replied.

Willas shifted in his seat, taking another sip of his beer. “Then how about you let me buy you one? As a thank you.”

She lifted her head, brow creased. “Thank you?”

The bartender set down a double of what he assumed was whiskey. She downed the entire thing in one go and Willas prayed that she wasn’t a lightweight. “I came up here to get inspiration for my new book. You know, get out of the city and breathe the fresh air.”

“And what does that have to do with me?”

Willas shrugged as he spun his glass again. “Well it’s worked and you’re the only person in this town that I’ve met aside from the old woman who runs the bed and breakfast.”

“Oh.” Sansa pushed her glass towards the bartender, asking for a refill. “I guess that’s okay.” She paused. “What do you write?”

“Fiction,” Willas said. “Nothing special, just novels.”

“Anything I would know?” She rest her cheek on her hand and looked at him.

Willas sighed, staring off into the distance. “Probably not? Depends on what you read. I’m not exactly _famous_ , but-”

“Wait, you’re not Willas Tyrell, are you?”

He winced. “Yeah, that would be me,” he said.

Sansa slapped the bar. “Bullshit! Alys has been trying to get me to read your stuff for ages.”

Willas exhaled, realizing he’d been holding his breath while she had her little realization. His fingers drummed the hard wood of the bar as he tried to come up with words. “Sounds about right.”

“That’s cool,” she said, suddenly sounding very calm.

Silence followed as they both finished off their drinks and ordered refills.

“So,” he began, “what brought you in here?”

Sansa snorted a laugh. “My ex is back in town trying to cause trouble for me. I threw a mug at him in the street, caused a scene. With any luck my sister will run him out of town by noon tomorrow.”

Huh. “Sounds like fun.” He paused. “So you have a sister?”

She nodded. “Yep, a little sister and two little brothers,” she replied.

“What about-”

“Dead.” Sansa didn’t look at him as she said the word. “Mom, Dad, and my older brother.”

“Oh.” Willas decided to not press the issue. He was enough of a lightweight and the one and a half drinks was already starting to creep into his head. She’d had twice as much, and if she chucked a mug at some guy while sober, he didn’t want to know what wrath she could unleash when drunk. Or even tipsy. Why were the ones who were so very pretty so very terrifying?

After another few minutes of silence, she spoke. “What happened?”

“Pardon?” He looked over at her.

“Your leg,” she said, nodding to it. “What happened?”

Ah, right. “Riding accident. I took a really bad fall off of a horse and destroyed my knee.”

“Ouch.”

“Yep.”

More silence. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and saw a pale pink flush start to creep up her neck. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was that she knew he was staring. He finished the last of his drink and then pulled out his wallet to pay. “I should head back to the bed and breakfast.”

“Yes, you probably have lots of writing to do tomorrow,” she added, looking him in the eye with a, dare he say, flirtatious smile.

“Yeah, more writing,” he mumbled. They stared at each other for a long couple of seconds before he picked up his cane and started towards the door. Perhaps it was his imagination, but the back of his neck burned and he wanted to say it was because of her stare.

* * *

Sansa dug her hands into the soft soil, a grin born of pure content spreading across her face. She twisted her fingers in the dirt, glad to have left her gloves at home. As much as she adored winter and the snows that coated the town in a magical layer of white, spring and working in the community garden was her true love. Bless Arya for kicking her out of the café today. She needed it after last night.

“Sansa?”

She jumped, yanking her hands from the dirt and sending specks flying. Looking up she saw Willas standing over her with an amused expression. How long had he been standing there? Had he heard the unseemly moan of pleasure that she let out when she started digging? Wiping her hands together, she scrambled to her feet. “Oh, hello,” she managed to squeak out. Heat was already traveling up her face. “Funny seeing you here.”

Willas looked around and shrugged. “Your sister—at least I think she’s your sister—said you’d be here,” he said.

“About this tall, dark hair, feisty? Yeah, that’s Arya,” Sansa said, holding her hand out to about Arya’s height. She paused, his words finally sinking in. “Wait, why did she tell you where I was?” Sansa crossed her arms and sat into her hip.

“I stopped by the café and you weren’t there,” Willas began, looking down at the ground. “I, uh, had a question.”

“Okay, shoot.”

Willas shuffled, his cane digging into the soft dirt. “I was wondering if you’d like to get dinner. With me. Tonight.”

Sansa blinked in surprise. “Sure,” she said without thinking. “Like a date?”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t have to be,” he replied. “I’m getting tired of eating dinner on my own every night. I thought it might be nice to change things up.”

“Oh, okay,” she whispered, staring at him. She almost wished it was a date. He had such a nice face, and he seemed like a good person. “You’ve probably been everywhere in town, so why don’t we drive down to Torrhen’s? To change things up. I’ll pick you up from the café at six.”

Willas nodded and then gestured to the upturned soil. “Great, then I’ll let you get back to your gardening.”

Sansa stared at him as he left, her head slowly tilting to one side. It was probably for the best that she not tell anyone about tonight. The last thing she needed was her sister or, heaven forbid, Wylla finding out that she was going on a not-date with a handsome man.

At six o'clock sharp, Sansa was parked outside of her café. It was a twenty-five minute drive from here to Torrhen’s. She’d made reservations at the little bistro on the water. Sure, it was the more romantic of the six restaurants in the town, being right on the lake. And given that tourist season hadn’t started yet reservations were perhaps a bit overkill. But it had the best food and she’d promised him something different.

Willas knocked on the window, the sound pulling Sansa from her daydream. She pressed the unlock button on her door and he climbed in. They drove the entire trip in silence, the static-ridden radio attempting to fill the void.

“Stark for six-thirty,” she said quietly to the host at the front of the restaurant.

The young man led her and Willas to one of the numerous empty tables. Yes, reservations had definitely been overkill.

“So, what do you recommend?” Willas asked as he perused the menu.

Sansa flipped the stiff card over to look at their entrées. “Anything, really. I haven’t had a meal I didn’t like here,” she said.

The waiter came and took their order. What could she say? What did people talk about when they were out to dinner on a not-date with a stranger?

“Have you lived here all your life?” Willas asked, jump-starting the conversation for her.

Sansa unfolded her napkin and placed it on her lap. “Yes, I have. My father’s family has lived here for generations. My mom lived further south. Riverrun, actually. She moved up here when they got married.”

Willas nodded. “That’s nice.”

“And you?” She waved her hand. “I mean, have you lived where you are your whole life?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “No, my family is from Highgarden. But after school I moved to Oldtown. It’s easier to start a writing career in a city than it is in a tiny town in the middle of a bunch of farmland.”

“Fair,” Sansa said, her voice hollow. Oldtown was so far away. He really had come to the middle of nowhere in comparison. “I started a degree down in King’s. That’s where I met my ex, the one I attacked last night. Then… well then I had to quit and move back here.”

Willas smiled softly, his eyes meeting hers. “Well, you really do have a lovely town. Anyone would be lucky to call it home.”

The rest of the meal passed uneventfully. He asked about her siblings, she asked about his. The check came, they paid separately, and then walked outside. All in all, Sansa figured it was an okay not-date. Nothing special or out of the ordinary.

“Do you want to head back or…” Sansa drifted off, studying Willas’s face as she angled herself towards the pier.

Willas hummed for a moment and then gestured for her to lead the way. “After you,” he said.

They started down the pier, strolling slowly. The dock stretched for nearly a mile, the town butting right up against the water.

“Why a café?” Willas asked, his arm brushing against hers as they walked.

“Why writing?”

He gaped for a second and then looked over to meet her gaze. “I asked you first, but okay.” He scratched at his jaw and Sansa realized that his once clean-shaven face was now covered in a healthy layer of stubble. She preferred it, really. “I did a lot of reading as a child and so when it came time for me to decide what to do with my life, I realized I wanted to write books. Simple as that.”

“Ah.” Sansa looked down at her feet. Her turn. “Well, after my parents died and I was given custody of my siblings, I couldn’t exactly finish school. I moved back here and started looking for a job. The old cafe owner was retiring, so I bought the place from him, refurbished, and now I’m here.”

“Right,” Willas whispered.

They walked in silence for a minute, her hand brushing up against his every few paces. Something deep in her gut warmed and she almost wished that they were on a real date. There was something about him that just… fit.

As they neared the end of the pier, music from one of the other restaurants on the water started to waft through the air. A few couples were standing outside, dancing in each others’ arms.

Willas drifted away from her, stepping in front to stop her from going any further. He held out a hand. She looked at the invitation and then back up to him, eyes narrow. “I thought this wasn’t a date,” she said.

He shrugged, hand still out. “It’s just a dance,” he replied.

Sansa’s chest lightened and a warm tingle rushed to her cheeks. She bit her lower lip and took his hand. He leaned over and rested his cane against the railing and then drew her in close. “Are you sure your leg will be okay?”

He chuckled and rest a hand on the small of her back. “I think it can manage a slow dance or two.”

They swayed to the music, and without realizing it Sansa rested her head on his shoulder. He was so comfortable and she closed her eyes, letting herself melt just a little bit into his hold. For not being a date, it was a pretty good date.


	3. three

Willas stood outside of Sansa’s café for several minutes, just out of view of the window, preparing for what he was about to do. It was nothing, it was just a goodbye. But it was a goodbye that _meant_ something. Two weeks in this little town and he’d gotten more good writing done than the last three years put together. But now his vacation was over and it was time to return to Oldtown. And that meant leaving Sansa.

Taking one more deep breath, Willas stepped into view of the café and entered. Several regulars who he’d come to know by face sat in their usual seats and behind the counter Sansa was busy kicking her sister back out into the public area.

“Busy day?” he asked, stepping up to the counter.

Sansa smiled, a look he’d grown to adore just a little too much, and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “No, just some annoying kids going places they don’t belong,” she replied, sending a pointed look to Arya as she hopped up onto the counter next to Willas from the customer side.

“Hey, I’m not a kid,” Arya retorted.

Rickon leaned over the counter on Willas’s other side to shoot his own look to the younger of the sisters. “Yeah but you’re short enough to be one,” he said.

Arya picked up a plastic-wrapped muffin and chucked it at Rickon, who caught it with one hand. It occurred to Willas that this was probably a routine exchange for them.

“Hey, not the food!” Sansa snapped, shoving her sister off the counter. The pair slunk away, fighting over the pastry as they unwrapped it. Sansa turned back to Willas and winced. “Don’t mind them. Do you want your usual?”

Willas sighed and looked down at his hands as they tapped the counter. “Actually, I came to say goodbye.” He looked back up to see Sansa’s happy expression fade. “My train leaves in half an hour.”

“Oh,” Sansa whispered. “Then let me get you something for the road. It’ll be much better than whatever they serve on those trains.” She pushed away from the counter and prepared his drink. When she returned to the counter, she slid the disposable cup to him. “It’s on the house,” she said, her gaze refusing to meet his.

“Thanks.” Willas picked up the tea and took a step back. “I’d better, uh, get going.”

“Yeah.”

He turned and walked out. As the door swung shut behind him, he heard shouting from inside. He shook his head with a smile. They sounded just like himself and Garlan when they were younger.

Willas made it halfway across the town square before the door opened and footsteps ran up behind him. He turned to see Sansa, breathless, approaching. She looked like she was about to burst, the way she stared at him. She held out a small card.

“Here,” she said, staring at her outstretched hand. “It’s the café’s card. In case you ever come back. Or forget. Or something.”

Willas laughed and took the card. “I don’t think I’ll forget, but thanks,” he replied, looking at her.

She glanced up at him quickly before looking back down at her apron. “I’d better get back,” she muttered. Turning around, she jogged back to the café.

He looked down at the little piece of cardstock in his hand. Flipping it over, a phone number was scrawled on the back. His grin widened and he slipped the card into his pocket.

Back in Oldtown, Willas was greeted at his apartment by Margaery. She’d graciously agreed to take care of his plants while he was away, and for her that meant temporarily moving in.

“How was your vacation?” she asked, gliding down the hallway as she gathered up her things.

Willas put his bag down and settled into the couch. Oh, how he would love to nap right now. “It wasn’t a vacation, it was a writing retreat.”

Margaery walked in, dumping her collected belongings onto a chair. “Sure it was. Did you have fun?”

Fun? If accidentally falling in love with a girl and then having to leave her was fun, then sure. He had fun. “Yeah, it was nice,” he mumbled, interlacing his fingers behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling.

“Oh my god, you met someone,” Margaery said, stepping over him. “Tell me everything. Is she nice? What does she do? Did you get her number? When will you see each other again?”

Willas pulled the throw pillow from behind his head and shoved it at her. “It’s none of your business. Get your stuff and go, I need to shower and then sleep for a few days.”

Margaery squealed, clutching the pillow as she jumped up in down. “Willas is in _love_ ,” she sang as she ran off to finish packing.

* * *

“Mail’s here,” Jeyne said as she walked into the café.

The tourist season had ended long ago, and the place had returned to its usual emptiness. Ten in the morning and not a soul in sight.

Jeyne set the stack down on the larger table where Rickon, Bran, and Arya were sitting and started sorting. Arya reached over and pulled the one box from the stack of envelopes.

“Oh my god,” she said. “Oh my god!”

“What is it?” Sansa asked, glancing up from her attempt to reorganize the pastry display.

“It’s from him!” Arya cried.

Jeyne snatched the package from Arya, reading the return address. “She’s right!”

Bran wheeled himself around the table to see. “Willas Tyrell. Isn't he some author?” he asked.

“He was that guy that Sansa went on a date with back in April,” Rickon said through a mouthful of food. “You were taking your midterms and didn’t come home that weekend.”

“It wasn’t a date,” Sansa called out.

“Right,” Bran muttered, studying the package. He flipped it over a few times and then held it up to his ear and shook it. “I wonder what it is.”

Sansa groaned quietly and walked over, taking the box from her brother. “It’s none of your business, that’s what it is,” she said.

“Wait, when was the last time you two spoke?” Jeyne asked, taking Sansa’s place at the pastry display.

Sansa looked up and shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe a week ago?” It had been a while, that’s for sure. She was so busy running this place and he was writing. And they had really only gone on one not-date. She turned the package over in her hands.

Arya sighed heavily and yanked the package out of Sansa’s hands. “If you’re not going to open it, then I will,” Arya said, tearing at the brown paper.

“Hey-” Sansa tried to fight back, but Arya was quick. She tore the box open and picked up the card that lay on top. Sansa snatched the rest of the box away as her little sister read the contents aloud. “Sansa, I wanted to send you an advance copy of my new book. Thank you for a wonderful two weeks. Willas. P.S.: Read the dedication.” Arya closed the card and passed it around. “Aww, isn’t that cute.”

Sansa lifted the book out of the box. The cover was pretty, featuring a woodland scene. She gently stroked the spine and opened the first few pages. She flipped to the dedication page and her heart stopped. Her entire face heated and she shut the book.

“What does it say?” Bran asked.

Sansa hugged the book to her chest and turned around. “It’s nothing,” she muttered.

Jeyne and Arya shared an excited smile. “Oh, it’s not nothing,” Jeyne said.

Rickon stepped up behind his eldest sister and pulled the book from her grasp. “Come on, you have to share. After all this, you can’t leave poor Arya hanging. She’ll die from the anticipation.”

“You wish,” Arya teased, sticking her tongue out.

Rickon cracked open the book and flipped to the dedication page. “To Sansa: my inspiration, my love,” he read aloud, looking up with a devious smile.

Sansa swore that her face was on fire. She took the book and card back and returned them to the box. “Okay, make fun all you want. It’s nothing,” she said, taking the box behind the counter and stowing it on a shelf under the register.

Bran wheeled over and rest his head and arms on the counter. “Did you like him?” he asked.

Sansa put her head on her hands to copy her little brother’s pose. “Yes, I did.”

“Then call him,” he replied with a shrug. “At least to thank him for the book.”

She reached out and ruffled her brother’s hair. “How are you so wise?” She stood up and exhaled deeply. “I’ll call him after we close.”

“Too late,” Rickon said.

“Hm?” Sansa walked out from behind the counter as Rickon held out her phone.

“He’s calling right now,” he said.

Shit. Sansa swallowed deeply and answered, putting the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

“Oh, good, I caught you,” Willas said. “Did you get my package yet?”

Her face heated again and she turned away from her siblings and Jeyne. “Yes, I just opened it, actually.” She paused. “Thank you.”

“You cut out for a second. Are you inside?” Willas asked.

Sansa looked at her phone with a small frown. Curse this old thing for hating the inside of her café. “Yeah, let me step outside,” she said.

She pulled off her apron and stepped outside onto the sidewalk. “Is that bet-” She stopped in her tracks. Across the empty road was Willas, standing there in the snow and looking at her with his lovely smile. Her heart raced and she shoved the phone into her back pocket and walked across the two-lane road, ice and salt crunching under her feet. Sansa stopped just short of him. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

Willas shrugged and looked around. “Well, my editor said that if any place could inspire me to write a book that good, I should move there immediately,” he said. “So I sold my apartment and here I am.”

“That’s…” Sansa couldn’t find the right word for it.

“Insane? I know,” Willas finished for her. “But it wasn’t the only reason I came back. I meant what I said in the dedication, Sansa. You, uh, mean a lot to me and-”

Sansa reached out and took hold of either side of his face, pulling him in and cutting him off mid-sentence. She planted a warm kiss on his mouth and his hands settled on her waist after a second. When they broke contact, she looked up at him. “Welcome home, Willas.”


End file.
